Twixt The Day and The Dark
by blubs73
Summary: An old vendetta could prove fatal for one of the NCIS team
1. Chapter 1

**TWIXT THE DAY AND THE DARK**

Disclaimer: NCIS and its characters do not belong to me. Fan fiction is just for fun and my own perverse pleasure. Definitely not for profit.

Spoilers : None that I can think of apart from subtle reminders of 'Twilight'

Summary: An old vendetta proves near fatal for one of the NCIS team - placing him in the care of someone surprising from the past. While Gibbs sets out to find those responsible and exact his own unique brand of retribution.

**Chapter 1**

"_Code Trauma Now!_"

The alert from the overhead pager resounded throughout the emergency room as the gurney came crashing through the double doors. Almost immediately the Trauma Team was on scene and surrounding the patient as he was quickly and efficiently transferred to one of the bays.

With his attention fully focused on his bloodstained and battered patient and the flurry of activity from his team, Attending MD Kurt Kruger, was only vaguely aware of the fracas going on behind him as one of the nurses physically barred entry to a couple of individuals who had been trailing right behind.

"You can flash that shiny Federal badge of yours all you want Special Agent Gibbs, but you still need to wait outside." Nurse Latoya Stone ignored the angry flow of invective from the tall silver-haired Federal Agent and fixed him with an uncompromising gaze; the one she'd honed to perfection on her teenage children.

Gibbs had long since given up trying to jostle his way past the big black woman and now resorted to scowling at her instead, though if she were bothered Latoya didn't show it. Her nickname around the department was 'Stonewall', and she hadn't gotten that by being some timid wallflower. When it came to the efficient running of the emergency room and the well-being of her patients, she would stand her ground come what may.

Above the melee came a voice of calm and reasoning. "Jethro, if we want to help young Anthony, then we really do need to stand back and let these good people do their jobs. The last thing they need is us under their feet."

"You should listen to…" Latoya arched an eyebrow inquisitively at the dapper elderly gentleman who was standing just behind and to Gibbs' right.

"Donald Mallard, Doctor," he reached out for her hand and introduced himself with a gracious half-bow that almost had Latoya blushing.

"…Doctor Mallard," she continued in a much warmer tone. "We'll keep you updated on his condition. In the meantime, it might be a good idea to contact Anthony's next of kin…"

"I have full Power of Attorney for Special Agent DiNozzo," Gibbs cut in curtly, earning himself a frown from Ducky. "So I guess that makes _me_ his next of kin."

"All I meant, is that maybe his family should be contacted," Latoya added pointedly. She had only caught the barest glimpse of the patient as he'd been rushed into Trauma One, but she knew his condition was critical.

"We're all the family he needs."

Knowing full well that the nurse wasn't going to budge, Ducky Mallard reached out and placed a firm hand on Gibbs' shoulder, gently guiding his friend of many years back outside, where a very subdued and anxious Ziva David and Timothy McGee waited for news.

oOo

Once the Paramedic had completed his methodical report, Dr. Kruger stood back and listened attentively as one of his Residents began her own verbal assessment of the young man's injuries.

Around him the trauma team worked like the well-oiled machine they were; using scissors to rapidly cut away already torn and bloodied clothing and bringing any necessary equipment to the bedside. His vitals - heart rate, respiratory rate and blood pressure - were all checked, then a nurse was accessing a vein on his right forearm with an IV catheter, followed by another on his left wrist.

With his clothing removed, it was blatantly obvious that Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had been the victim of a brutal and prolonged assault, though at first glance his numerous injuries seemed comparable to those of the victim of a high-speed motor vehicle accident.

His head was swollen and his face bloody and bruised, with deep cuts and contusions literally covering his entire body. His right arm looked broken and there was some dark ominous bruising across his chest and abdomen.

"The cranial swelling is consistent with severe blunt force trauma, there could be a skull fracture," the young female resident was reporting efficiently. "And the abdominal bruising might be indicative of internal bleeding."

"Have the Neurology team been alerted?" Kruger asked and got confirmation from one of the senior nurses. "Okay, let's try to get him stabilized…"

oOo

_He had no idea how it happened or exactly how much actual time had elapsed; but Tony had a vague-ish memory of lying prone and helpless in the back of an ambulance, and the next thing he knew he was standing in an emergency room witnessing a particularly gory tableau. _

_Although he winced at the sight of his corporeal self surrounded by an impressive array of life-saving machinery, with tubes and catheters covering and snaking out from various parts of his other body, watching it from afar didn__'__t feel weird at all. Which was__…__weird. Shouldn__'__t he be really freaked out or something? _

"_Hey! I__'__m having one of those out of body experiences.__"__ A grin spread slowly across his face as realization dawned. _

_And just to make absolutely sure, he shuffled over to one of the doctors and waved a hand several times in front of his face. No reaction._

"_Cool."_

"_Only you could put a positive spin on a near death experience DiNozzo.__"__ The familiar glib retort came unexpectedly from right behind and he spun around in shock, nearly falling on his ass in the process._

"_Kate?__"__ he just about managed to stutter out in awed disbelief._

_And there she was, looking every bit as beautiful as he__'__d remembered. Caitlin Todd in the flesh__…__well, sort of. She was dressed in diaphanous virginal white and was perched elegantly on the edge of a gurney in the next bay, with her legs swinging idly to and fro. Her gaze left him for a moment and when it returned he could sense an intense sadness, which she covered quickly with a withering glare._

"_How do you manage to get yourself into these situations?__"__ she snapped accusingly. __"__What are you, a psycho magnet or something?__"_

"_Hey don__'__t blame me,__"__ was his defensive response, feeling slightly wounded that his former partner didn__'__t seem as happy to see him as he was her. "I was just following orders…I think." _

_Tony frowned as the significance of that statement hit home. The truth was, his recollection of the events leading to him ending up badly injured and in a hospital were hazy, to say the least. And any hopes he had about his condition were crushed when he caught a fragmented comment about his head injury from one of the medical team; something about inserting a catheter to relieve intra-something pressure. _

_I'm gonna die! _

_He had no time at all to dwell on that disturbing thought, because suddenly Kate was standing right there beside him and the virginal white had been replaced by a tight form-fitting black PVC jumpsuit - ala Emma Peel. _

_Tony so couldn__'__t help the admiring leer and a feral growl as his gaze raked over her. Kate just rolled her eyes in disgust. _

"_Oh please!__"_

"_I can__'__t help it,__"__ he shrugged, smirking unrepentantly __"__You look kinda hot for a__…"_

"_Dead person,__"__ she finished for him. __"__Go on, you can say it.__"_

"_Guardian Angel,__"__ Tony corrected. _

"_Am not.__"_

"_Are too. And I__'__m truly flattered that you are mine.__"_

"_Oh, get over yourself, DiNozzo. I was just in the neighborhood.__"_

_"__Were not.__"_

"_Was too.__"_

_The bickering trailed off as something unfathomable passed between the pair, triggered by that old familiar teasing banter. God he__'__d really missed this - missed her. _

"_Kate, if I ask you a question, will you answer honestly?__"_

"_If I can.__"_

"_Is this how it ends for me?__" _

"_I don__'__t know,__"__ she responded gently. __"__It__'__s not supposed to be your time, but the fact that you're here with me now probably means that your fate hasn't been decided yet.__"_

"_S'okay," he said after an agonizing pause, and looked so vulnerable that Kate just had to reach over and clasp his hand in hers. _

oOo


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews and feedback so far.

This is a relatively short chapter - sorry - but more to follow very soon.

Chapter 2

"Jethro!"

Gibbs looked up from his steaming Styrofoam cupful of something black and insipid that passed itself off as coffee, and gazed down the sterile hospital corridor as NCIS Director Jenny Shepard part-walked, part-ran towards him, her high-heeled shoes click clacking on the polished flooring.

By the look of her designer cocktail dress and elegant wrap she'd obviously come straight from an official function of some sort, probably at one of the embassies. Jenny embraced that side of her job, relishing the social scene and the inevitable networking opportunities that came with it.. In that respect, she and Gibbs had always been polar opposites.

"I got here as fast as I could," Jenny said breathlessly as she reached the group currently occupying the hard plastic seating in the waiting area "What happened?"

Gibbs fixed her with an accusatory glare. "You tell me _Director_? As far as I was aware, DiNozzo was attending a counter terrorism seminar."

Director Shepard flinched inwardly at the brittleness of his tone, and steeled herself for the recriminations that were bound to follow.

With the tension between the two building by the second Ducky rose, sensing that it was probably a good time to make himself scarce. "I…um…I think I'll just pop along and see if young Anthony's out of surgery yet."

Ziva and McGee quickly got the message too.

"More coffee anyone?" Ziva asked, not waiting for an answer as she scurried away.

"I'll come with you," McGee got up to follow, almost stumbling over his own feet in his haste. "I promised to meet Abby outside."

As soon as his team was out of earshot, Gibbs turned his attention back to Shepard - eyes blazing with a rage that unnerved her…almost.

"Skip the bullshit," he warned. "I've known for a few months that you've had Tony working covert ops and running errands for you again."

Not waiting for an invitation, she moved to the empty seat beside him and sat with a resigned sigh.

"So why didn't you say something?"

"I was just biding my time," he responded tersely. "But believe me, if I thought for one minute that you'd knowingly put his life in danger--"

"I would _never_ do that!" To her credit, she squared her shoulders and returned his glare, her cheeks flushed and hot with anger. She'd learned long ago how to brazen it out when confronted by a blustering, fuming Leroy Jethro Gibbs. "It was just supposed to be straightforward protection duty, for a week - two at most. A favor for the FBI."

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Since when do we owe _them_ a favor?"

"We don't…didn't," Jen responded. "But a little cross-agency co-operation doesn't hurt now and then. And it also means that they'll have to reciprocate in the future."

"Good luck with that," he snorted cynically.

A heavy strained silence hung between the pair for just a minute or so, but to Director Shepard it felt like hours. When Gibbs finally spoke again his voice was soft, but Jen was under no illusion that she was off the hook.

"Was Tony specifically requested?"

She nodded in affirmation. "They wouldn't go into detail. All I was told was that it had something to do with the Lucas Bonetti trial."

Gibbs returned her gaze blankly.

"Oh come on Jethro," Jen almost gasped. "It's all over the news, you must have seen…" her voice tapered off when she realized he genuinely didn't have a clue who or what she was referring to, even though the trial of one of the most notorious crime bosses of modern times had been headlining across the national and international media for many weeks.

"Did Tony have back up?" he asked suddenly, catching her off balance with his sudden change of tack

"I'm sure he did, they would never--"

"Then why did he call _me_ for help?" Gibbs stood abruptly and stalked across the room, his need to put some distance between them overwhelming. The stunned look on her face spoke volumes. "You didn't know that I was the one who found him half-dead in a stinking alley, did you? Do you even know what they did to him Jen?"

As he felt his tenuous control slipping, Gibbs took a couple of measured breaths before he dared speak again and when he did he had to fight to rein in his temper.

"You call your FBI buddies and tell them to get their fat asses here ASAP. And to hell with their usual 'need to know' crap. I expect to be told _everything._" He didn't give Shepard the chance to argue the point before continuing. "And the next time you decide to loan one of my team to another agency, you'd damn well better consult me first."

"Who died and made you Director, Jethro," Shepard snapped back, trying to regain some composure. She knew he had every reason to be upset, but there was only so much insubordination she would tolerate. - even from her former partner and lover. "I was under the impression that this was _my_ agency and they were _my_ agents."

With an ominous shake of his head, Gibbs pushed himself away from the wall and headed off in the same direction as Ducky had only moments before, pitching his empty coffee cup into a trash can as he delivered his parting shot.

"Think again!"

oOo

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

_Knocking at heavens door was one thing, but having Kate turn up like this and watching in silence side by side as his other self was wheeled into the Intensive Care Unit, brought forth a slew of raw emotions that Tony had thought he'd be able to deal with. He swiped at the first traitorous tear with the back of his hand, determined not to cry - cause that would be really embarrassing._

_He was just on the verge of voicing something deeply profound and meaningful, when Tony became aware of Kate's side-long gaze raking over him. And though she turned away quickly, he still caught the barely suppressed grin and the snigger that she tried to turn unconvincingly into a cough._

_"What?" Tony asked, feeling mildly irked at her lack of emotional support right at that moment._

_"Nothing," she spluttered out. "It's just…"_

_"What?" He pressed._

_"It's just, well…" she tried again, drawing in a deep breath to rein in the giggles but failing miserably "…you're naked!"_

oOo

"He has a spiral fracture of the right forearm, severe bruising and lacerations over most of his upper body, two cracked ribs and abdominal bleeding from a renal tear which was repaired in surgery. But the depressed skull fracture and the temporal swelling is what's causing the most concern at the moment."

Ziva David muttered something softly in Hebrew.

"There's evidence of an Intracerebral Hematoma," the doctor continued, addressing his comments mostly to Ducky Mallard.

"I'm assuming then that there's also Intracranial Pressure?" Ducky Mallard asked, his professional curiosity almost distracting him from the fact that he was talking about one of his very dear friends and that he had an attentive, if shell-shocked audience.

Kruger nodded somberly. Despite his years of experience in emergency medicine, he still hated to be the harbinger of bad news. "Agent DiNozzo is being moved to ICU where he'll be monitored carefully over the next few hours, but it's too early to gauge the extent of any brain injury."

"Brain injury! Brain injury. No one mentioned brain injury."

One second Abby Sciuto had been cuddled up forlornly next to Gibbs with her head resting on his shoulder, and the next she had leaped lithely to her feet to stand in between the two medical professionals, bobbing back and forth between them with a look bordering on both abject panic and distress.

Kruger eyed the strange gothic beauty cautiously, not quite sure what to make of her wild pigtails or dark clothing, offset by the striking floor length black velvet cloak with red silk lining. Abby had been out all night clubbing with an eclectic group of friends when she'd got the call from McGee. For the most part, the young woman seemed oblivious to the doctor's curious gaze as she walked into Ducky's comforting embrace as soon as he opened his arms to her, sniffing into his shoulder.

"Now, now Abigail. Let's not waste our energy on negative thoughts," he crooned, rubbing her back as if soothing a fretting child. "It's the responsibility of the doctor to lay out all of the facts - good and bad. But our Tony is nothing if not resilient. Where's there life, there's hope, eh!"

With another dramatic sniff she pulled away and nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of one black laced hand. "You're right Ducky. Tony needs me to be strong, not some pathetic whining wimp." She squared her shoulders and gave an assertive nod. "From now on we'll be surrounding him with positive energy, won't we?" Her narrow-eyed glare took in everyone including her NCIS colleagues and even Doctor Kruger.

Ducky smiled fondly. "That's the spirit, my dear."

oOo

Gibbs hated this feeling of utter inadequacy. All he could do was sit and wait for news while the scum who'd done this to Tony was still out there, probably laughing at them right now.

Though on the surface he gave his team a tough time, in actuality every single one of them brought out a fiercely protective streak in him. Each individual in their own unique way had somehow managed to sneak under the seemingly impenetrable emotional shell he'd erected around himself so long ago - but none more so than Anthony DiNozzo and Abigail Sciuto.

With Abby it was more obvious; his daughter Kelly would have been around the same age. He loved her quirkiness, her eccentricities and her pure, magnificent scientific genius. But Tony; well he was more of an enigma. The poor little rich boy from a dysfunctional family, who could put on the spoiled brat or playboy act at the drop of a hat. And that's just what it was…an act. The real Tony DiNozzo had much more warmth and depth of character. In fact, he was possibly the best natural investigator that Gibbs had ever worked with, whose instincts and powers of observation bordered at times on the uncanny. A young man who seemed to have come through a troubled childhood relatively unscathed - save for a warped and often juvenile sense of humor, an intense loyalty for those he cared about, and a reckless streak a mile long.

It was still early days yet, but Gibbs was under no illusion that his senior agent was in a very bad way. He'd been lucid enough to make the call for help, but by the time McGee had triangulated the signal from Tony's cell and they had tracked him down to that desolate alley - between two almost derelict warehouses in the dockyards - his condition had deteriorated radically.

The ride in the ambulance with the Paramedics fighting to stabilize his young agent and then seeing him surrounded by the trauma team at the hospital, had unsettled Gibbs more than he would ever care to admit. And now completely drained, he leaned back in the chair with his head rested against the cold wall, eyes closed.

Though it was necessary, he could really have done without Dr. Kruger's graphic cataloguing of Tony's numerous injuries. And now the one word that seemed to define his condition was the one word that chilled Gibbs to the chore. _Coma_.

Somewhere down the long corridor he could hear McGee and Ziva still trying to persuade an anxious Abby that going for something to eat was a good thing, and that someone would come get them if Tony woke up and needed her. Ducky had disappeared again; more than likely to further consult his fellow professionals on all things medical, leaving Gibbs to his own particular brand of brooding contemplation.

Following their earlier spat Jenny Shepard had given him a wide berth, and the last he'd seen of her she'd been huddled in a corner by a vending machine talking animatedly on her cell.

The subtle slightly musky hint of her expensive perfume gave him the first clue that she was hovering close by. Opening his eyes, he ran a hand over his face and through his short hair before acknowledging her presence, his expression giving nothing away.

"The FBI is here," she offered tentatively. "I've arranged for us to use one the conference rooms downstairs."

oOo

_"Just concentrate and think about your favorite things to wear," came Kate's words of encouragement, as Tony tried to conjure forth the perfect outfit that would define his ethereal appearance while hovering in limbo-land. "For a clothes horse like you DiNozzo, that shouldn't be difficult."_

_Obediently he squeezed his eyes shut and thought nice thoughts of Armani suits and Gucci loafers._

_"What about this?"_

_The snort spoke for itself. "Okay I guess, if you're going for the whole Pirate's of the Caribbean look."_

_He stared down at his newly imagined attire and grimaced in agreement at the leather pants and billowy, ruffled shirt unbuttoned half way to his navel._

_"Crap." He scratched his head. This was proving more difficult than he thought. "Let me try again."_

_His second, third and forth efforts weren't much better; morphing between a god awful gray shapeless suit that he suspected might be one of McGee's favorites; a pair of low cut cargo pants and a tight white tee that just had to be Abercrombie & Fitch; and finally a too thick cream turtle-necked sweater that made him look like one of those male models on a knitting pattern._

_Kate had long since given up all pretence of trying to conceal her amusement, and moved from where she'd been leaning against a wall to stand just a few feet away from him, grinning. "Here, let me do it."_

_Before he had time to object, Tony was standing there in full Naval white dress uniform, feeling a lot like that guy from JAG._

_"Katie!" he growled a warning._

_After taking a long moment to relish the vision, she reluctantly snapped her fingers. Almost immediately Tony was wearing a pair of comfortable jeans and a midnight blue shirt that fitted him like a second skin._

_"Nice," he admitted giving himself an appreciative once over._

_"You know, I actually prefer the Navy Whites," Kate smirked mischievously and looked as if she was about to snap her fingers yet again, until he grabbed her hand._

_"Don't even think about it!"_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Phew! This chapter has been _so_ hard to write.

I see it as pivotal to progress the story and to give the readers a glimpse of where it's going - or at least where it _was _going when I wrote the original outline, and before it began mutating into something totally different - eek!

Lord knows, I've written and re-written this particular chapter numerous times and I'm still not completely happy.

If I don't post it right now I'll only re-write it…again!

Hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 4**

FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell was the first person Gibbs saw as he and Shepard entered the ground floor conference room, and he was quick to make his feelings known about that.

"I might've guessed you'd be involved," he snapped out, giving his FBI counterpart his version of the

"I wasn't Jethro," Fornell countered instantly, meeting the other man's burning glare head on. "Up until an hour ago I was as much in the dark about this as you were." He waved a hand to indicate the trio already settled at the polished rosewood conference table. "I think my colleagues here assumed that I'd be able to mediate and calm the situation."

"Fat chance," Gibbs retorted with a churlish sniff even as he took the seat to Fornell's right, acknowledging the others with nothing more than a curt nod.

"Jenny, good to see you again."

A big built fifty-something black man in an expensive suit rose to greet Shepard the European way - with a kiss to both cheeks. She smiled warmly at the man before making the cursory introductions.

"Deputy Director Mike Knowles, I'd like to introduce Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Jethro, this is …"

"I know who he is," Gibbs cut in gruffly, ignoring the barely concealed snort of amusement from Fornell. "Under the circumstances, can we cut the social niceties and get right to the point!" His uncompromising gaze raked over the group to settle on Knowles. "So, you wanna tell me how a member of _my _team is drafted into bodyguard duty for the FBI and then ends up fighting for his life in ICU,

Momentarily taken aback by the NCIS agent's abrasive tone, it took Knowles a few seconds to gather his wits enough to gesture to the pair seated to his left; an unremarkable looking brunette wearing a pair of unflattering tortoise shell glasses and a red-headed, ruddy-faced man in his late thirties with a buzz cut and plenty of attitude.

"I'll, uh, pass to Special Agents Laura Devese and Matt Myers from our New York office."

The attractive young woman, who had been fiddling with a platinum pen up to that point, squared her shoulders, pushed a loose strand of shoulder length dark blond hair from her face and gazed around the table. Gibbs could almost feel the nervous energy emanating from her.

"Before we begin, Director Shepard, Special Agent Gibbs, I assume you have some knowledge of the Bonetti trial?"

"Yup," Gibbs responded immediately, but at Shepard's skeptical look he added pointedly for her benefit, "McGee brought me up to speed."

Which was the truth? His junior agent condensing the known facts about the case into a potted, palatable 20 minute briefing for his boss. Some of the details McGee had picked up himself from news reports, the rest he'd accessed online from various law enforcement databases via his laptop.

Gibbs now knew, for instance, that Lucas Bonetti Jnr. was the head of the notorious Bonaventura family, and on trial for everything from extortion, money laundering, stock market fraud, tax evasion, drug trafficking to murder. Junior had risen through the ranks of a family whose business was organized crime, taking over from his maternal grandfather, Stefano, when the old man was gunned to death outside his barbers in Brooklyn in 1991.

"Our star witness, Joe Porello, was one of the top capos in the Bonaventura organization. He was arrested at the same time as Bonetti, but we persuaded him to testify for the prosecution in return for a significantly reduced sentence and a new life and identity in the Witness Protection Program.

"With Porello's testimony we can ensure Bonetti goes down for life," Knowles contributed.

"So where's Porello now?" Director Shepard asked curiously.

"He's…uh…missing," Devese admitted uneasily. "And at this moment in time we have no idea whether he's dead or alive."

Deputy Director Knowles shifted his sizeable girth in the plush leather chair. "We're assuming _dead_, though there's no body to back up this assumption," he confirmed bluntly. "Porello recently survived an attempt on his life. After that, he steadfastly refused to testify unless we agreed to some…uh…new measures to guarantee his safety.One of which was to have a Federal Agent by the name of Anthony DiNozzo assigned to his close protection team. As far as Porello was concerned this was non-negotiable."

"But why Tony?" Gibbs asked.

"There's a family connection, of sorts," Laura Devese answered after a momentary pause, during which Gibbs noted the _look _that passed between her and Special Agent Myers. "Porello is a childhood friend and former business acquaintance of Tony's father, Vincent DiNozzo - as is Lucas Bonetti. We assumed Porello just wanted someone he could trust to watch his back."

Gibbs mulled over this little revelation before asking, "So what went wrong?"

"That's exactly what we want to ask Special Agent DiNozzo," Matt Myers broke his brooding silence and spoke up for the first time, his tone terse.

Gibbs took a moment to try to get the measure of the FBI agent. It was obvious that Myers had issues of some kind, but with _who or what _was yet to be determined, though he suspected they'd find out soon enough.

"That will have to wait," Shepard got in quickly, giving Gibbs a wary side glance. "Tony's only just out of surgery and his condition is critical."

Myers shook his head in cynical disbelief. His next words were addressed directly to his Deputy Director, as if the rest of the group were of no significance. "Then we'll need to put a team on DiNozzo 24/7, so we can question him as soon as…."

"Just hold on one goddamned minute," Gibbs cut in sharply, coming out of his seat and leaning over the table to glower at the other man. "The _only team_ Tony is going to see when he wakes up is mine. Get that!"

He held Myers in his glare for a few moments longer, before glancing around at the rest of the group and then settling on Fornell as the only one he really trusted not to feed him a load of bullshit.

"What the hell's going on here Tobias?"

Fornell gave a bewildered shrug and was about to respond to tell Gibbs he hadn't a clue, but Knowles got there first.

"Let's all just take some time out to calm down," he said deliberately to Myers, and then turned to Gibbs and Shepard with a wan smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Tempers and emotions are a little…frayed," he continued by way of an apology. "We lost two good men today."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Shepard responded sincerely. "Tony's back up team?" She guessed, and Knowles nodded somberly.

"Their bodies were found in the basement of our safe house," Devese added. "Both with a single bullet wound to the back of the head."

"They were executed," Myers almost snarled out. "And the only weapon found at the scene was a Sig Saur, which we believe belongs to Agent DiNozzo."

Fornell placed a firm restraining hand on Gibbs'arm before the other man could leap out of his chair again. "You can't honestly think DiNutso had anything to do with this? Apart from anything else, we asked for him. It's not like he volunteered."

"Yeah, well color me cynical," Myers sneered, "but I've been too long in law enforcement to be surprised by much."

Fornell gave a gruff laugh. "Me either, except maybe dickheads like you. So you wanna tell us exactly what part you think Special Agent _DiNozzo_" - he hoped Gibbs appreciated his extra effort with the pronunciation this time -" played in all of this, huh? Maybe he masterminded the whole thing despite being drafted onto our team for less than a week, up to and including the kidnapping and possible murder of a key prosecution witness and the cold blooded slaying of two fellow federal agents! And maybe he even arranged to be battered within an inch of his life to cover his tracks."

"Anything's possible," Myers offered churlishly, his face reddening dramatically. "Maybe he was double-crossed or something."

Fornell shared a _Do you believe this guy? _look with Gibbs.

Though grateful for Fornell's intervention, Gibbs decided that now was the time to take back the reins.

"So now tell _me_ something," he leaned forward and rested his arms on the table, his calm inquisitive tone belying his spiraling anger as he and Myers faced each other again. "Why?" He asked simply. "What was his motivation?"

Myers shrugged, though he didn't look as sure of himself as he had earlier. "The greatest motivator of all, I guess - money."

"Not Tony," Gibbs shook his head emphatically. "Oh, he talks about it all the time, but it's never really been that important to him."

"Okay, so maybe he did it as a special favor to Bonetti….or even Papa DiNozzo," Myers shot back, not prepared to give up just yet or cave under the pressure. "You know what they say Agent Gibbs. Once _family, _always

"That's completely ridiculous," Jenny Shepard was out of her seat, looking and sounding really, really pissed as she rounded on Knowles. "Deputy Director, unless Agent Myers has any hard evidence to back up these outrageous accusations leveled at one of my best and most trusted agents, I'll have no choice but to end this meeting right now and to lodge a formal complaint with Director Henderson."

"Agent Myers, that's more than enough," Knowles snapped angrily. He'd been curious to see how Shepard and Gibbs would react when confronted by Myers'half-assed theory, but realized he may have let it go a little too far. He needed these people on side. "Maybe you should step outside and calm down."

"But sir…"

"NOW!" The Deputy Director's bellow definitely brooked no argument, and with a parting scowl at Gibbs and Fornell the man shoved back his chair and stormed out of the room. Devese went to follow, until Knowles held up a firm hand that had her sitting back down and looking even more unsettled than before, if that were possible.

oOo

_From his own unique vantage point over against the far wall of the conference room with Kate standing close by his side, Tony had seen and heard everything and now looked positively shell-shocked._

_"They think I had something to do with it."_

_"Not they, just that Myers creep," Kate assured, placing a protective hand on Tony's arm and giving the departing FBI agent in question a venomous look as he walked right past them on his way out of the meeting room._

_"Do you remember anything yet?" she coaxed gently._

_Tony scrubbed his hands over his face, as if that act might somehow jog his blurry memory. "Nothing much -" he started to answer, just as something of huge relevance actually did come racing back with a sudden intensity. Turning to Kate, his expression a mix of both relief and stunned incomprehension, he said, " - except that Joe Porello's still alive."_

oOo

The heavy tension hung in the air for a long time after Myers' angry departure, leaving Deputy Director Knowles to contend with Jenny Shepard's blatant seething outrage, as well as Special Agent Gibbs' unreadable but definitely dark expression - which was actually worse.

He knew he probably had one chance only to redeem this situation, so he needed to handle it carefully. He couldn't rely on support from Devese, who was staring down at her hands, or Fornell whose entire body-language made it clear that he was siding with the NCIS's on this one.

Knowles cleared his throat. "Let me just apologize for Special Agents Myers' behavior, "he began hesitantly. "He was the Agent- in-Charge of the Porello protection team, so feels personally responsible for the situation and the…uh…deaths."

While Gibbs was achingly familiar with the burden of guilt that came with the death of an agent, that still didn't excuse the damning accusations thrown at Tony DiNozzo, and he was just about to say as much when Shepard did it for him.

"To hell with excuses,"she snapped. "Tell me right now what evidence there is to substantiate that…man's…ludicrous claims regarding my agent?" She had both hands splayed on the table top, her eyes narrowed intently.

"Damn straight," Gibbs growled out.

At least Knowles had the good sense to look contrite, shifting a tad uncomfortably. His hand almost went to the collar of his suddenly too tight crisp cotton shirt, before he stopped himself. "At this moment in time there's a lack of any evidence, Jen…Director Shepard. "But there's no doubt in my mind that Special Agent DiNozzo _is_ involved in some way…albeit unwittingly," he added quickly, before the anticipated protests could begin.

"Look, "he reasoned, "the New York field office now have irrefutable proof that they have a leak," he continued. "It's the only way to explain how Porello's location was compromised on two occasions, the recent attempt on his life and now this frickin' monumental…disaster." Knowles shuddered at the thought of the fall out when the story finally broke in the press. "Which is why we owe it to _everyone_ concerned to ensure there's a thorough investigation."

"I assume then that Special Agent Gibbs and his team will be involved in _that _investigation," Shepard stated crisply.

"Of course," the FBI man assured immediately. "Under the circumstances, I think that's the most logical and sensible solution."

oOo

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Bullshit!" Ziva David blurted out as Gibbs finished summarizing the meeting with the FBI for the benefit of his team. "It's obvious they're just looking for a scapedog…"

"What Ziva says, Gibbs," Abby chimed in. "Something smells totally hinky."

Ducky gave a derisive snort. "I concur. Young Anthony would have to be the most incompetent mafia hit man alive to leave his own discharged weapon, presumably complete with a full set of fingerprints, at the scene of his crime."

"I know that, and so do the FBI," Gibbs responded, deftly snagging a cup from the stack of Starbucks' McGee carried precariously into the waiting area before the young agent had a chance to start passing them around. "No-one really believes he murdered those agents. It's a set up, and a lousy one at that. Even McGee could've come up with a better plot for one of his novels!"

Tim McGee shot his boss a semi-wounded look as he dropped into the seat next to Abby, but thought better of arguing the point right at that moment.

"So it begs the question then, Jethro," Ducky went on. "What exactly is the point of the aforementioned set up, if the person or persons doing the setting up know that their plan has more holes in it than a block of the old Swiss cheese?"

Gibbs removed the lid of his Styrofoam cup and inhaled the rich heady aroma, almost sighing in ecstasy as he took a long swallow; it was a relief to finally have the real stuff after endless hours of drinking the insipid hospital vending machine version.

"Joe Porello was obviously the main objective," he answered almost distractedly. "But Tony's in this for a reason."

"The one thing I don't get," McGee had a frown creasing his brow, "is what they were doing here in DC, when the trial's taking place in New York?" He'd returned from the coffee run half way through Gibbs's team briefing, and was sure he'd missed some of the important background stuff.

Gibbs didn't seem bothered by the change of tack and just nodded. It was a good question and one he'd asked himself during the meeting earlier.

"After the first attempt on Porello's life the FBI needed to find another hidey hole for him and fast, so when Tony was reeled into this DC seemed as good a place as any. It's close enough that they could have him on the witness stand within a few hours."

"Do you think Daddy DiNozzo really is involved?" Abby asked wide eyed. "He could be like Marlon Brando, or something." From the hint of awe in her voice it was evident that she was more than a little excited by the prospect.

"It could explain why they didn't murder Tony at the scene like the rest of the FBI protection team?" Ziva mused.

"Well, there's only one way to find out. And that's not by sitting here on our asses talking about it," came Gibbs' response as he got up fast and headed for the elevator, with Ziva and McGee scrambling to follow. "Duck, Abby," he called just as the doors started to shut, "you two stay with Tony for the time being. Call me if there's any change, and don't let any of them damn suits from the FBI anywhere near him."

oOo

Leonard 'Leo' Chambers had a reputation as one of the best and most feared lawyers in the business; a man who'd been at the top of his game for nearly 20 years. This success had been achieved largely by his dubious business contacts and personal acquaintances, and a willingness to go to almost any lengths for his wealthy clients; up to and including extortion, theft, bodily harm and at times…murder - if the stakes were high enough and the price was right.

And this unethical and blatant disregard for the principles and ethics that governed his chosen profession was exactly why he'd been eagerly anticipating the call from the _Fed _inDC, though the news was far from good. In fact, it was downright disastrous.

"What the fuck went wrong?" he barked into his ear piece, moving to stand in front of the floor to ceiling window that dominated his Manhattan tower block office, though he was hardly in the mood to appreciate the stunning vista from 20 story's up.

The voice from the other end sounded fraught. _"It was all going exactly to plan Mr. Chambers," _the Fed was trying to explain. _"But then he got away. To be honest, I don't know how he did it. He was in a real bad way - we made sure of that." _

"So, where is he now?" 

"In ICU at the Howard University Hospital."

Chambers ran a frustrated hand through his expensive bouffant haircut, but then straightened abruptly as a thought occurred to him. "I'm surprised it hasn't made the news yet."

And just to be absolutely sure he grabbed up the remote for his wall-mounted plasma TV screen and started scrolling urgently through the news channels. Nothing.

"There's a news blackout," the Fed advised when they had Chambers' attention once again. _"They'll try to keep the lid on this one for as long as possible."_

"So that gives you time to come up with a way to rectify this total fuck up before _he_ hears about it," Chambers snarled out.

**__**

"How am I supposed to do that?" the Fed gasped incredulously. "_If NCIS have their way, I'll be lucky to get within 10 feet of him."_

Chambers pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the onset of a stress-related migraine.

"Jesus H, they're only frickin' Navy cops," he hissed in frustration. "If Joe wants to square things and convince Mr. Bonetti and the familyhe's back on side, then you both need to get creative and finish the job properly."

oOo


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Lucas Bonetti, Joseph Porello and Vincent DiNozzo are actually blood related," Laura Devese told those assembled in the NCIS bullpen, which included Gibbs, his two agents and Tobias Fornell, pausing only as long as it took Tim McGee to display the contents of the FBI dossier on the large plasma screen. "They share maternal grandparents."

"Which makes them cousins, yes?" Ziva arched an eyebrow.

"Looks like the DiNozzo's really are connected," McGee commented. "No wonder Tony kept his distance."

"That's not the only reason," Gibbs snapped out cryptically, and though they waited expectantly it was soon obvious to everyone that he wasn't going to elaborate further.

He was loitering behind the group, who obviously had no clue he was there, while Kate was across the pen checking out her former work station for old time's sake, running fingers over what she considered Ziva's tacky desk top décor. When she was done she shifted her attention to the former female Mossad agent.

"_I could really do with some moral support here. Gibbs is about to hear all my deep dark family secrets." _

All present were intently studying the shots of the three men in question, none of whom bore much of a family resemblance.

Two of the photo's were obviously standard mug shots taken at the time of their arrests; Bonetti's showing a sharp faced individual with a visibly receding hairline and eyes that looked too much like a predators for Gibbs' liking. Porello, in contrast, looked fairly amiable; a completely bald, stocky man of around the same age as Bonetti, but looking a good ten years younger. The one of Vincent DiNozzo had presumably been captured by a paparazzi and showed him at some glitzy black tie function; eyes alight with amusement as he shared a joke with someone out of frame.

Ziva was doing some intense studying of her own. "He's very attractive. More distinguished, obviously, but he has the same shape eyes as Tony and that impish little smile --"

"Gross! Zee-vah's lusting after my old man."

"Of the three, it's actually Joe Porello who has the rep as a ladies man," McGee read from the notes he'd printed off, "even though Vincent DiNozzo's been married three times. And according to this he's just about to tie the knot with wife number four, his former PA Angela Kyle. Hey, the same as you, boss. What about tha…"

The pointed glare alone was enough to send icy tendrils of fear down McGee's spine, and the young agent gulped audibly at his faux pas.

"

"Bonetti and Porello have both held prominent positions within the Bonaventura family for a number of years," Devese picked it up again, "but since Vincent DiNozzo allegedly severed all ties more than a decade ago, there's no hard evidence to tie him to any of their, uh, business activities."

"Or maybe none that we could dig up," a cynical Fornell offered.

"DiNozzo Enterprises and its subsidiaries have been investigated thoroughly Agent Fornell, and on the surface they're all legal and above-board."

Fornell snorted humorlessly. "Maybe he's just a helluva lot smarter than the likes of Lucas Bonetti…and the FBI."

"Do you think she works out?" Kate asked, eying Ziva from top to toe, "because she looks a little on the hefty side to me."

With an audible long-suffering sigh, Kate dragged her reluctant focus back to Tony. "No they don't," she assured tartly. "Just Fornell."

"Oh, that's okay then!" Tony sniped back. "So much for moral support."

"I'm here with you, aren't I?"

Several simmering moments past, while the corporeal group around them continued their discussion.

"Can't you see I'm suffering here," Tony lamented eventually, summoning forth a wounded pout and his best puppy dog expression for effect. "You could at least give me a hug --" and to his utter amazement Kate looked like she was actually going to do it, until he smirked wolfishly "-- or maybe we could…"

"Don't push it, DiNozzo."

Without warning, Gibbs extricated himself abruptly from the center of the group and moved back to his desk, snapping out orders even as he pulled open his top drawer and grabbed his firearm.

"McGee. I want you and Special Agent Devese to go over the Bonetti case files. There's a reason why Tony was dragged into this and we need to find it. Then I want you back at the hospital to spell Ducky and Abby. And make sure the guard on Tony's room stays sharp. I'll expect regular updates…"

If McGee was daunted by the volley of orders coming his way, he didn't show it. Neither did he bother to argue that it could potentially take him the rest of his working life to sift through the mountain of 'Bonetti case files', or that he hadn't slept himself for nearly twenty-four hours. Instead the young agent just nodded as he crossed to his work station, settled himself at his computer and got to work.

"What about me, Gibbs?" Ziva David called out as Gibbs and Fornell headed for the elevator.

"You're with me," he responded impatiently, as if she should have known that all along. The young Israeli rushed to grab her gear and literally just had time to squeeze herself sideways between the elevator doors as they glided shut. Ziva pulled on her coat and stared at Gibbs expectantly.

"Can I at least ask where we are going? "

"We're gonna make a couple of house calls," was all she got by way of an answer.

oOo

FBI Special Agent Matt Myers entered the hospital unnoticed through a side entrance, and made his way up to the 5th floor via a staircase most commonly used by auxiliary staff. He went completely unchallenged by anyone until he reached the ICU, located in the east wing. There he ran into his first obstacle, in the form of a dark suited agent, positioned halfway along the corridor beyond the busy nurses station and presumably right outside Agent DiNozzo's room.

In an attempt to make himself inconspicuous, Myers kept deliberately out of the guards direct eye line and mulled over his predicament. He needed to get into the room, but to do so he needed the guard to be somewhere else and arranging that wasn't going to be easy. But even as Myers devised and then dismissed several plans, fate stepped in to lend a hand in the form of a strikingly pretty nurse with strawberry blond hair, who flashed a bright smile at the guard as she passed him in the corridor.

The agent said something to her in return that earned him a coy look and another smile, followed by a few minutes of mutual chat and flirtation. Finally, he nodded and with a furtive glance back and forth to make sure the coast was clear, stepped away from his post and followed the nurse to the end of the corridor and through a set of double doors.

Hardly believing his luck, Myers scrambled to make his move literally as soon as the pair disappeared from sight, unclipping his belt holster as he gently opened the door to the room and slipped inside.

oOo

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The prospect of a perilous near 500 mile round trip to and from New York City with Gibbs at the wheel, prompted Tobias Fornell to hastily requisition one of the FBI's small executive jets. Not only did it mean they could complete their journey in relative comfort and in a substantially reduced amount of time, but also in one piece. Having experienced Gibbs' unorthodox and heart-stopping driving methods first hand on numerous occasions, it wasn't something Fornell was keen to do again any time soon. He'd even arranged for a dark SUV - complete with driver - to be on the tarmac at JFK when they touched down there late afternoon.

Now Fornell, Gibbs and Ziva were in the ante room of the plush 5th Avenue offices of DiNozzo Enterprises, waiting not altogether patiently to be summoned into the inner sanctum of the founder and President, Vincent DiNozzo.

Watched surreptitiously by DiNozzo's young, attractive but overtly gay male PA, Ziva David filled the time by checking out the expensive furnishing and décor and the obviously original art works; an eclectic mix of antique and modern styles that complimented each other perfectly. Everything about the place shouted money, and lots of it.

"Exquisite," she murmured appreciatively, running one delicate fingertip along the curved bronzed edge of a piece of abstract modern sculpture that was the center piece of a low dark oak coffee table. "This explains why Tony has such expensive tastes --"

"Well, it's good to know that I've been a positive influence on my son in some way," came the mildly amused voice that had Ziva retracting her finger guiltily from the sculpture and spinning on her heels towards the now open double doorway to the office.

The man who stood there let his gaze drift casually over each of his guests, before standing to one side to usher the trio into the room beyond.

"Spencer, hold all my calls," he instructed his PA. "Can you also contact Angie and tell her to cancel our plans for tonight."

A prompt "Yes, sir" came as he closed the doors behind him.

From the cut of his dark gray tailored Brooks Brothers suit to the tips of his handmade Italian black leather shoes, the elder DiNozzo exuded a casual elegance as he strolled back across the spacious office towards his desk; a solid looking piece of furniture made from a dark wood. The only items on the waxed surface were a phone, a closed laptop computer and a crystal pitcher of water and a half filled glass; no stationery or paperwork in sight.

Where the décor of the ante room was calculated to impress the office, though stylish and expensively furnished was less ostentatious. Apart from the desk, the one piece of furniture that really dominated the room was the floor to ceiling bookcase that ran along one entire wall opposite the bank of windows. Dotted on the shelves with the first editions, vases and statuettes, were framed photographs of Vincent DiNozzo with successive New York Mayors, Governors, Senators as well as an A list celebrity or two. But in the center taking pride of place, was a large framed photograph of him as a much younger man, his arms draped protectively around a stunning woman who was cradling an infant. The beautiful couple looked totally besotted with their tiny bundle.

"It's reclaimed Peroba wood from Brazil."

Ziva tore her gaze away from the photograph and turned to their host as he addressed her.

"The bookcase," Vincent DiNozzo indicated, amusement lighting those eerily familiar eyes as he caught her puzzled frown. "Most of the bigger pieces of furniture here and at my main home are made from reclaimed materials. My fiancé, Angela, is heavily into conservation," he continued, by way of an explanation.

She found herself immediately warming to this charismatic individual, even as the investigator within her began to study him properly.

Vincent DiNozzo was maybe an inch or so shorter and little stockier than his son. His thick hair now liberally streaked with gray was also darker, and his skin coloring swarthier in comparison to Tony's brown hair and light olive complexion - which he'd always maintained came from his mother's Northern Italian genes as opposed to the paternal Sicilian lineage. But slight physical differences aside, Vincent and Anthony DiNozzo were undeniably father and son.

He had the same walk, his voice though a little deeper in timbre was the same, he was even coolly assessing his visitors now in exactly the way that Tony often did with strangers or suspects. .

Gibbs pulled his wallet from his jacket and was in the process of flashing his NCIS badge and ID, but Vincent DiNozzo waved it away with casual indifference.

"No need for introductions, Special Agent Gibbs, Officer David," he responded easily, acknowledging the pair. "I feel as if I know you both intimately."

"Ditto," Gibbs responded brusquely as he dropped into one of the high-backed wood and leather chairs in front of the desk. It came as no surprise to him at all that a man like this would have background Intel on his only son's work colleagues.

"Ah!" DiNozzo gave a self-deprecating shrug. "Anthony's obviously told you all about me. Should I be flattered?"

Gibbs snorted. "I wouldn't."

Vincent DiNozzo acknowledged that remark with a wistful nod and the ghost of a smile as he sat down himself, then he turned his attention to Tobias Fornell.

"And, you are?"

"Special Agent Tobias Fornell, FBI," Fornell provided at the prompt.

"As soon as I heard about Anthony, I assumed I'd be getting a visit. How is he?" Something in the man's expression changed, and his tone faltered ever so slightly as he asked the question.

"Still critical," Gibbs supplied not unkindly. He didn't bother to ask how the elder DiNozzo had come by the information when there was still a nationwide news blackout.

"It goes without saying that I'll do everything I can to help you find the person responsible for hurting my son." DiNozzo met Gibbs' steely gaze directly, and something unfathomable passed between them.

Fascinated by the subtle interplay between these two alpha males, Ziva finally found her voice.

"You can begin by telling us about Joseph Porello," she stated matter-of-factly.

"Joey's all brawn and no brain - always has been," came the dry response. "He should've ditched Lucas Bonetti and that _organization _a long time ago."

"Just like you did?"

DiNozzo smiled wryly. "It wasn't _that_ difficult. But then I had the money and resources to make my own way. Something Lucas has always resented."

"Well, it looks as if _Joey _finally decided to cut those family ties, big time," Gibbs threw in. "I assume you know he was supposed to testify for the prosecution at Bonetti's trial?"

DiNozzo nodded.

"And that DiNu…your son was drafted onto his federal protection team?" added Fornell.

"Not until recently," he admitted stonily.

Gibbs studied the other man intently for a few minutes before continuing. "A hit on Porello's not a complete surprise, given the circumstances. But what I _am_ finding hard to understand, is why the hell someone would go to such extreme lengths to get to Tony!"

It took a long time for Vincent DiNozzo to finally break the tense heavy silence that followed Gibbs' statement.

"I believe it was a message for me," he stated evenly, his eyes ablaze with suppressed emotion and anger. When he spoke again his voice held none of its usual poise as he dropped his bombshell.

"You see, Lucas blames me for his son's death."

oOo

The interior of the hospital room was subdued and dimly lit, save for the halo of soft filtered lighting from an overhead lamp that encircled the individual lying prone and still on the bed beneath the numerous catheters, tubing, leads and sensing devices crisscrossing his body.

Once the door was shut firmly, effectively muffling the prevalent hospital hustle and bustle, the overriding noise came from the incessant and regular beep-beeps and almost hypnotic droning of the bedside monitors, the functions of which Myers couldn't hope to identify.

To say he was shocked by the condition of the room's occupant was an understatement.

Myers paused only as long as it took to check the name on the clipboard hanging off the end of the bed to make a positive ID. With a dressing covering part of his head and swollen face, his arm splinted from shoulder to wrist and the mottled bruising and abrasions covering his exposed flesh, Special Agent DiNozzo was a mess and virtually unrecognizable.

Knowing he probably had just a matter of minutes before a nurse appeared or the guard returned Myers quickly set to work. Carefully skirting the medical equipment he moved to the top of the bed, and then reached into his inside pocket to withdraw the small item he needed for the job. His fingers had literally just grasped the object, when…

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

With a surprised start and then a curse as he was caught completely off guard, Myers spun towards the now open doorway and the figure of the man who loomed on the threshold, at the same time fumbling and dropping the item which rolled under the bed.

"This is, uh, this is not what it looks like," he stuttered out unconvincingly as the man turned briefly to call out to someone named 'Abby', and then took two or three decisive steps further into the room.

Dr. Ducky Mallard raised his fisted hands and adopted a pugilistic pose, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

"I think I should warn you sir, that I was welter weight boxing champion for my university two years in succession, and willing to demonstrate the fact unless you move away from young Anthony - immediately."

The steel in his voice brooked no argument, and the slightly flushed but angry and determined look on the older man's face left Myers in no doubt that he meant every word.

From outside came the sound of several raised voices and then footsteps pounding down the corridor, and suddenly the doorway was filled with the ashen-faced, agitated looking NCIS guard, a nurse, a couple of the uniformed hospital security personnel and an anxious Abby Sciuto.

Holding out a placating hand towards the ever-growing group, Myers did as he had been ordered and backed slowly away from the bed.

"I'm FBI. I can explain --" he tried again, gingerly reaching for his badge only to have the words fade into a muffled "oof" as he was tackled and shoved face first against a wall by the guard and two man security team. Moments later metal cuffs were being snapped around his wrists and he was spun once more to face the room. Ducky was right there practically standing nose to nose.

"Save your explanations…and your energy, for Special Agent Gibbs," he growled menacingly. "You're going to need them." Ducky's fury then redirected to their previously absentee guard. "And you too!"

oOo

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"You, uh, you want _me_ to question Myers, boss?" McGee stuttered out just to be sure he'd heard Gibbs correctly. From the other end of the cell came a hiss and a snort, which could have meant anything and did little to ease the young agents spiraling doubts.

It was a well known fact that Gibbs led all the interrogations, and on the rare occasions when he wasn't around Tony or Ziva always stepped in. It was a Probie's job to investigate, not interrogate. A Probie just did what he was told and hoped to learn the tricks of the trade from his senior agents. Tim McGee wasn't sure he was ready for this type of responsibility, but it looked as if he didn't have much choice.

"No, I want you to take him on a frickin' all-expense paid trip to Disneyland," came the acerbic response that had McGee flinching. "Of course I want you to question him, McGee."

"Okay…sure…but, um…"

"Look," Gibbs cut across the unintelligible murmurings to reassure his junior agent, "we should be back in DC late tonight. You get the preliminary stuff out the way and I'll take over as soon as I get there. How does that sound?"

McGee gulped again.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could do it, McGee," came the firm words of assurance.

"Sure, boss," he responded finally, still not 100 convinced, but buoyed slightly by his boss's apparent faith in him. However, right at this moment there were other pressing matters to deal with, and he hated to admit to Gibbs that he was finding the going tough.

"The thing is, after we took Myers into custody I had to put the Marine guard in place at the hospital. And even with Laura, uh, I mean Special Agent Devese's assistance, I'm not even a third of the way through the Bonetti case transcripts. Director Shepard wants an update…"

"McGee!"

"… and at some point I need to get back to the hospital to take over from Ducky and Abby."

The shrill whistle accompanied a split second later by a hollered "HEY, McGEE!" was practically the equivalent to a slap upside the head for the young agent, who reeled in shock and blinked several times.

"Sorry, boss," he said quietly, taking a steadying breath.

"Rule number…"

"Yeah, I know," McGee cut in, grinning sheepishly. "Never apologize."

"Damn straight," was Gibbs' response, but his tone was far from harsh. "Is Special Agent Devese still there with you now?"

McGee directed a strained smile across at the young woman, who was currently working at Tony's computer. "That's an affirmative."

"Good," Gibbs stated. "Fornell doesn't want her involved in Myers' interrogation for obvious reasons, so I suggest you keep her on the paper trail for the time being while you concentrate on other things."

"Okay, boss."

Not longer after that, following brief updates from both sides Gibbs ended the call, leaving Tim McGee to ponder his current predicament. With a heavy sigh he picked up his phone again and was just about to put through the call to the Director, when Laura Devese cleared her throat to gain his attention.

He glanced up to find the FBI agent standing by his desk and smiling at him sympathetically.

"Tim, can I make a suggestion?"

"Sure," he confirmed, holding the receiver away from his ear while his finger still hovered over the keypad.

"You're swamped here and it'll be hours before you can get away. So, why don't I go to the hospital and take over from your two friends?"

"Oh, uh, I don't think so…" he responded, shaking his head. "Ducky and Abby don't know you, and after the incident with Myers…"

"Well call them," she pressed. "Tell them to expect me. If I take a laptop, I can work through the transcripts just as well there as I can here. And at least you'll have peace of mind knowing Tony's in safe hands until you can get there yourself."

He gnawed on his lower lip as he mulled over her offer. It did make a lot of sense.

"Okay," he confirmed eventually. And instead of dialing the Director's extension, he put in the call to Abby.

oOo

"And how's our sleeping beauty this evening?" Nurse Marcia Willets asked breezily as she entered the room. The _sleeping beauty _in question was right where he'd been for the last two days. Overall condition improved slightly, but the fact that he was still deeply unconscious and showing no signs of waking up was a huge worry for all concerned.

Up until that moment Abby had been dozing with her head resting on Tony's bed and one arm draped protectively across his legs, but came awake with a jerk, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide like saucers at the Nurse's entrance.

"What's that?" Marcia pointed accusingly to the weird stuffed toy currently cradled beneath her patient's undamaged right arm, and made a disapproving face.

"It's Bert," Abby responded, stifling a yawn and wiping the sleep from her eyes but still somehow managing to look affronted on Bert's behalf. "Doctor Malkovitch said that Tony might respond to familiar voices and…um…things, and besides, Bert loves Tony and Tony loves Bert."

Marcia didn't look convinced and reached out a tentative finger to prod the strange lumpy creature, which let out a resounding burping/farting noise.

"Is _that _thinghygienic?" She screwed her nose in distaste.

Abby bristled. "Of course Bert's hygienic. I sterilized him myself."

"Well, you make sure you take it with you when you leave," Nurse Marcia warned pointedly. "Or it might just end up going into the incinerator with the rest of the surgical waste."

Tony grinned at Abby as he watched her cover Bert's ears and scowl malevolently at the nurse, before he went back to his relentless pacing back and forth across the room.

"I don't get it!" he said after a few minutes.

As if on cue, Kate Todd materialized at his side. "Don't get what?" she asked, knowing instinctively that she probably wasn't going to like the answer.

"Why can't I leave this room any more?" he asked peevishly. And to demonstrate he took a couple of purposeful strides towards the doorway where he was brought up short by an invisible barrier. Point made, he spread his arms wide and turned back to Kate.

"In the movies, when the lead guy's sort of dead or having one of these 'out of body' trippy things, he gets to dwell on the past and take a tantalizing peak into his future - just like James Stewart in 'It's a Wonderful Life', Warren Beatty in 'Heaven Can Wait' or even Bill Murray in 'Scrooged'. But not me! I get one brief visit to the bullpen - and by the way, the whole 'close your eyes and imagine yourself there thing' is very cool - and now I'm stuck here with nothing to do but wait. And I gotta say…it sucks."

"Well, patience was never one of your virtues, DiNozzo."

"There's patience and then there's downright frustration, Katie," he retorted huffily. "I wanna be out there helping Gibbs track down the bad guys. He needs me. What's the use of being like Casper if I can't do a little of the invisible special agent stuff, huh?"

With a long suffering sigh - and Kate realized she'd been doing a lot of that over the past couple of days - she knew she had to come up with some sort of explanation that would placate him.

"Look, Tony, this is real, uh, life, not the movies, okay!" she began hesitantly. "It's different for each individual, and there's probably a very good reason why you're being kept here… I'm just not absolutely sure what that is at the moment."

"Well, can't you just ask," Tony tried again, "your, uh, new boss?" He pointed furtively upwards and then let his hand drop quickly. In an instant his expression went from vaguely curious to seriously freaked as yet another terrible thought occurred.

All of his attention was suddenly focused on his comatose other self. Oblivious to Nurse Martha who was currently checking his IV lines, or to Abby still keeping her exhausted bedside vigil.

"Oh crap! Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Kate curiously followed his gaze to the bed and then back to him. "That depends what you're thinking."

"The reason you can't show me the future is that I don't have one," he murmured. "Cause something really, really bad is gonna happen!"

oOo


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"For crying out loud," Special Agent Matt Myers groaned in frustration, "how many more times do we have to go over this? We're wasting time here."

Sitting opposite him in '_Interview One', _Tim McGee was about to remind the FBI man that they were both in for a long night. But Myers didn't seem to want an answer anyway and continued with his version of events, his voice weary.

"I had no intention of harming Special Agent DiNozzo. As I keep trying to explain, I was only there to plant a bug."

"Which we haven't been able to find," McGee reminded him.

"That's because your Doctor Mallard scared me half to death sneaking in like he did. I dropped the frickin' thing."

McGee jotted something down in his notebook. As the entire interview was being recorded it wasn't really necessary to make written notes, but somehow the whole process of putting pen to paper had an oddly calming effect on the junior agent; helped him to focus his thoughts. It was more or less the same reason he used a manual typewriter for writing his novels rather than a computer.

"And you maintain that your intention was just to monitor the room and Special Agent DiNozzo's visitors?"

Myers nodded emphatically. "Absolutely! And I would've put a camera in there too if I thought for one second I'd get away with it." He smiled wryly. "But there just wasn't time for that. Your people have been at his bedside the whole time, they literally never go home!"

"We look after our own."

"So do I," Myers stated, with a dark shadow crossing his face, "which is why I wanna get the sonofabitch who executed my agents and probably my witness too."

He leaned forward and stared directly at the young NCIS agent, but McGee gave nothing away as he met that steady gaze.

"And bugging Tony's room would have helped you how, _exactly_?"

"Because he's involved!"

As soon as that statement was out of his mouth Myers quickly held up a cuffed hand to deflect the angry rebuttal from McGee, whose face colored dramatically. "And I don't mean directly," the FBI man placated. "Look. I said some things to your Director and Special Agent Gibbs in the heat of the moment, which probably gave the impression that I thought DiNozzo was in this up to his neck. And maybe I even believed it at the time - or wanted to at least." He laughed humorlessly. "It was a helluva lot easier than facing the truth."

"Which is?" McGee prompted brusquely.

"That someone on _my_ team's working for Lucas Bonetti," was the bitter response, which coupled with the way Myers lowered his gaze told McGee the man either meant what he said, or he was a gifted actor. For the moment he decided he would go with the former and give the agent the benefit of the doubt.

Myers grabbed a small bottle of water and took a long thirsty swallow. It had been a draining few days for him also, and he was only now really beginning to suffer the effects; he suddenly felt old beyond his 40 years.

"I had a gut feeling that whoever it was would try to make a move on DiNozzo sooner or later," he reasoned, "cause he's the one person alive who can positively ID the murdering scum. All I had to do was plant the bug, then sit back and wait."

"Using Tony as bait?" McGee simmered.

"Yes. No. Hey, you would've done the same."

McGee pinned him with a glare that would have made Gibbs proud, and had Myers shifting uncomfortably. "Not when a fellow agent is critically injured and unable to defend himself, and definitely not without the backup or knowledge of my boss and my team," was the damning response.

Even if Myers had wanted to defend his actions further he didn't get the chance, because the interview ended abruptly when Director Shepard's voice came over the intercom.

"Special Agent McGee, I need to talk with you immediately."

Without saying another word McGee closed his notebook and returned his pen to the inside pocket of his jacket.

It was a little unsettling to realize that she might have been watching from the Observation Room on the other side of the two-way mirror, and the thought flashed briefly through his mind that maybe she was hauling him out to critique his interview technique. But something in her tone told him instinctively that it was more than that.

And the fact that Jenny Shepard was waiting in the hallway, her face etched with worry, only added to his anxiety levels.

"It's not Tony, is it?" he asked straight away.

"Tony's stable, don't worry," she assured with a gentle smile. And then suddenly she was all business again. "Tim, do you know where we can find Special Agent Devese?

"Uh, well -- is there a problem, Director?"

Shepard nodded grimly. "You could say that. It seems that even before Myers' arrest the FBI were covertly monitoring his team, pending a full investigation. They've since uncovered some disturbing details concerning Laura Devese, including the fact that she's recently cleared her entire bank account."

The Director suddenly turned on her heels and headed down the hallway at a brisk pace. "I know she left this building a little under an hour ago, but she's not answering her cell. And the FBI has been unable to track her from the GPS signal. They want her detained ASAP." She impatiently prodded the button to summon the elevator and only then noticed that McGee hadn't followed and was routed to the spot where she'd left him, all color drained from his face as he struggled to find his voice.

"She's at the hospital with Tony."

oOo

Abby leaned over and planted a soft kiss on the tip of Tony's nose, the only spot she could actually reach without dislodging any vital tubes. Then she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"I'll only be gone for a little while," she told her deeply sleeping friend, "so you'd better behave for Special Agent Laura."

With a wary glance at the FBI agent, Abby forced herself grudgingly away from the bed and started to slowly gather her things.

Despite chronic fatigue and the muscle ache and cramps that came with spending so many restless hours either wandering the hospital corridors or curled up on the uncomfortable chairs, Abby was still reluctant to go home. And she definitely didn't want to leave Tony with a virtual stranger, even if Tim McGee had called to say it was okay.

She'd have felt a whole lot better about the situation if at least one member of the team were here as well. But Ducky had rushed off hours earlier following a frantic call from his mother's caregiver - something to do with Mrs. Mallard skinny dipping in a neighbor's pool; McGee was stuck at HQ, and Gibbs and Ziva were in New York of all places.

Aware that the young forensic scientist was stalling, Devese decided it was time to speed up her departure so handed Abby her jacket and purse and with a hand firmly on her arm guided her to the door.

"You don't have to worry, I promise to take good care of him," she assured through a fixed smile.

"It's not that --" Abby started to protest, vainly trying to halt their forward momentum. She glanced over her shoulder to give Tony another long anxious look. "What if he wakes up and I'm not here?"

Devese had the door open. "Then I'll call you right away," came the immediate response.

"But, what if…?"

With Abby now out of the room, Devese blocked the doorway with her body to stop her dodging back inside.

"Just go home," she insisted with just the right level of empathy in her tone. This close to her objective and with so much at stake, Devese couldn't afford to arouse the suspicion of the armed marine guard who was watching impassively from the sideline.

Finally, with a dejected and defeated nod of her pigtailed head, Abby mumbled a sullen goodbye and then stomped down the corridor towards the nurse's station and the elevators beyond.

Relieved that she'd got rid of the strange young woman at long last Devese closed the door firmly and leaned with her back against it, allowing herself a second or two to regain her focus and resolve.

There was no going back now. Everything depended on Laura finishing this job, even if the concept of cold-blooded murder was a lot easier than the actual act. But then her priorities and loyalties had changed dramatically since meeting Joe Porello.

For Laura the attraction had been almost instantaneous, which was in itself ironic as the Italian mobster not only wasn't her usual type, but he was also more than 30 years her senior. There was just _something _about the man that drew her to him like a moth to a naked flame, and before she really had time to properly analyze her feelings and desires, she was lost.

It was to Laura that Joe secretly disclosed his fears regarding the impending Lucas Bonetti trial. He told her that he'd only agreed to testify against his cousin and former employer in the first place to avoid a potential life sentence and to buy some time, but as his day on the witness stand drew ever closer he began to have big concerns about the prospects of his long term survival; Joe knew that the second he stepped foot on that witness stand he was a dead man walking.

And that's why Laura went covertly to Bonetti's lawyer - Leo Chambers.

All Joe wanted in return for his silence, was a plan to get him out of the Fed's 'protective custody' with enough money to settle anonymously somewhere abroad. After a few days of tense waiting, the word finally came back that Lucas Bonetti had accepted the deal - but there were provisos. Bonetti claimed to have been deeply wounded by Porello's treachery, and so demanded further proof of allegiance.

And the object of that act of atonement was to be none other than Anthony DiNozzo, who just happened to be an NCIS Special Agent and the only child of Vincent DiNozzo, a man against whom Bonetti had sworn a deadly vendetta.

It was relatively easy to stage that first faked attempt on Joe's life, after which he made all sorts of _demands - _and the FBI fell over themselves to meet them. And that's how their target had come to be temporarily assigned from NCIS to the witness protection team.

Laura also had no qualms whatsoever in organizing the strike on the DC safe house; had been a willing accomplice when Joe shot two of her FBI colleagues; had actually held her own gun to Tony DiNozzo's head to keep him in place the entire time, and then later when they'd transferred him to that old warehouse had watched dispassionately as Joe and a thug-for-hire, Nico, brutally assaulted the young agent. The intention was to take photos as proof of the hit for Lucas Bonetti, before dumping the body in the river.

The big error of judgment had been to leave DiNozzo huddled like some mortally wounded animal in the corner of the long derelict building, while she and Joe had a little 'quality' time together in the back of their car. She would have been willing to bet a years FBI salary that he didn't have the fight or life left in him to walk let alone escape, but somehow in the time the couple were gone Tony did just that; almost braining Nico with a rusty metal pipe in the process and retrieving his own cell phone from the big brute.

If she were honest, part of her admired DiNozzo's tenacity and willpower, and what she was about to do now gave her no pleasure or satisfaction. It just had to be done - plain and simple. That's why she'd risked the charade with the FBI and NCIS, even when she'd sensed she was on borrowed time. The end definitely justified the means, and it would all be worth it when she and Joe began their new life together in South America.

And that's also why finesse was the last thing on her mind as Laura Devese approached the bed and roughly yanked the pillow from beneath Tony's head. Then with little more than a glance at the battered features she lowered it down over his face and pressed…

oOo

As Abby waited for the elevator she couldn't shake the feeling that all was not well, that she might have forgotten something important. Running through a mental inventory to try and jog her memory, she suddenly let out a mortified -- "Bert!"

With evil Nurse Marcia's ominous threats about surgical waste and fiery furnaces heightening her panic, she spun on her platform booted heels and scurried back to Tony's room.

"I need to save Bert," she breathlessly explained to the marine guard, whose mouth twitched in something that could have been a smile as he stepped aside to allow her access to the room.

oOo

Tony watched in morbid fascination as Laura Devese effectively smothered the life from his helpless other self. And as an alarm began its shrill steady warning **beep**, he suddenly began to feel lightheaded and very, very… weird.

With a glance down he realized his body was almost translucent and fading in and out of focus, like a malfunctioning hologram. He raised frightened eyes to meet Kate Todd's, and in a voice barely above a whisper asked, "What's happening?"

oOo

Abby barged right back in, ready to grab Bert and run before any sort of confrontation with Special Agent Devese. But two things stopped her dead; the first being the persistent alarm emanating from one of the bedside monitors that started just as she opened the door; and the other was seeing the FBI woman holding something over Tony's head.

In the nano second it took for cold realization to hit, Abby was galvanized into action. Letting out a squeal of pure unadulterated outrage she launched herself at the woman, grabbing hold of one of Bert's stumpy legs on the way and whirling him about her like some kind of bizarre archaic weapon. And with a near hysterical, stuffed hippo-wielding Goth baring down on her and with nowhere else to go, a shocked Devese had no choice but to back into a corner and vainly try to shield herself from the heavy bruising blows.

Oblivious to the commotion as the marine guard and the medical team rushed into the room behind her, Abby swung Bert a couple times more just for the sheer hell of it and this time connected with Devese's jaw. There was a crack - accompanied by a loud satisfying belch from Bert - and the woman went glassy eyed with the unexpected pain, before slumping to the floor unconscious.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: So sorry it's taken me so long to post these final chapters, but life and work has an annoying habit of getting in the way of the really fun stuff.

A big thank you to all who have posted feedback. It really makes a difference to know that people out there are reading my fanfic and enjoying it.

I've also now changed the summary at the welcome suggestion of a couple of friends, but mostly because the story has changed so much since I came up with the outline all those months ago. It sort of took on a life of its own.

Anyway, I hope these chapters are not a disappointment and do credit to the wonderful TV show that is NCIS and its amazing cast of characters.

Chapter 10

As soon as Director Shepard had finished talking with Tony's doctors and had fully briefed the NCIS teams now swarming all over the hospital, she went in search of McGee and Abby and found them huddled together in a corner of the waiting area which had been temporarily cleared of visitors and non-essential staff.

Abby glanced up forlornly from the comfort and calming security of McGee's shoulder. "How's Tony?" she asked straight away, dark expressive eyes conveying her fear.

"He's stable for now," Shepard assured. "But another minute or so…" the words trailed away. They all knew it had been a close call. "Abby, if it hadn't been for you…"

"And Bert," the young woman cut in.

"And Bert," the Director corrected with a bemused smile as she picked up the stuffed creature and held it aloft by what passed for a tail. Then her face took on a puzzled frown as she realized the toy was a lot heavier than maybe it should have been.

"Bert's got a secret pouch in his tummy," came the immediate admission from the young Goth, "so I loaded it with healing stones and crystals for Tony." She used the back of one gloved hand to wipe her eyes. "I'm only sorry…"

"Don't apologize," Shepard countered quickly through a chuckle while still dangling Bert in midair. "I'm thinking of making these standard issue for all NCIS agents from now on."

"…that I didn't whack that bitch harder," Abby finished with a malevolent leer.

"Well, you hit her hard enough to break her jaw," McGee pointed out. "So we can forget a verbal statement any time soon."

Choosing to ignore Abby's muttered _'Serves her right'_, McGee asked the Director. "Any word from Gibbs?"

"He's on his way back," she confirmed with genuine relief.

oOo

The return flight from New York and then the ride in from the airport to the hospital gave Jethro Gibbs plenty of time to reflect on the near tragic events of the day and of their meeting with Vincent DiNozzo, and then the later one with Lucas Bonetti at the maximum security facility just outside of New York where he was being held during his trial. It was there - mid interview - where Gibbs had got the call from Jenny Shepard telling them of the latest attempt on Tony's life.

When they had finally left the offices of DiNozzo Enterprises mid-afternoon, Gibbs' inner voice was urging him to forget the detour to the prison and get the hell back to DC _ASAP_. But just as he'd needed to confront Tony's father, he had an even stronger compulsion to stare into the eyes of the man who had probably ordered his death. With hindsight though, he wished he'd followed his gut instincts. When the life of one of his people was in danger he should be there with them, protecting them, not on some half-assed personal fact gathering mission several hundred miles away.

But however much he remonstrated with himself, he had to admit that coming face to face with both of these men had helped him get the measure of them in a way no amount of in depth written reports or profiles ever could.

Vincent DiNozzo had been a revelation. If he were honest, Gibbs knew he'd gone into that meeting slightly confrontational and more than a little cynical, given what he knew of Tony's life with the man after his mother's death. But unless he was the consummate actor, DiNozzo Snr. seemed to have well and truly tamed his demons and appeared genuine when he candidly revealed parts of his life and his turbulent relationship with his only son.

The same couldn't be said for his relationship with other members of his family, and Lucas Bonetti in particular.

The rivalry between DiNozzo and Bonetti went right back to their childhood, where a young Lucas had allegedly resented the more affluent DiNozzo's and also Vincent's close relationship with their maternal grandfather, Stefano Bonaventura. It didn't help that the old man was forever boasting that his favored grandson would be the natural successor as head of the family one day.

But for Vincent his priorities and everything else changed when he lost his first wife - Sophia - Tony's mother.

That event was allegedly the catalyst for him severing all ties with certain factions of the family and his old life. For a long time he was overwhelmed with grief, which he tried to nullify by foisting his young son off on a series of nannies and private schools while he acted the playboy and lost himself in an alcohol induced fugue, and then the two ill-fated marriages which followed.

Though Gibbs could empathize with the all-consuming grief, what he couldn't understand was Vincent DiNozzo's virtual abandonment of his son. Gibbs knew for a fact that the man had never physically abused Tony, but there were plenty of other ways to fracture a relationship.

For the next few years Vincent single mindedly threw himself into building a business empire - "legitimately' he insisted - but life took yet another unexpected turn when Stefano Bonaventura bled to death on that Brooklyn sidewalk in '91.

With Vincent effectively estranged from the family and with no one stronger to challenge him, it was Lucas who took over from his grandfather as capo. But his own success allegedly did nothing to diminish his antipathy towards his cousin.

"Lucas and I crossed paths from time to time over the years," Vincent had explained, "but mostly we kept our distance…and a sort of mutual truce. I stayed out of his business and he stayed out of mine. And that lasted right up until October 2004. That's when Stevie Bonetti, Lucas's oldest son, died."

It transpired that young Bonetti had been killed in a shootout with DEA agents, when he and three associates were caught red-handed unloading a shipment of pure cocaine with an estimated street value of around $10million, which had been cleverly concealed within a consignment of religious statues.

If the events as recounted by DiNozzo Snr were to be believed, he'd called in the DEA after getting an anonymous tip-off that the Class A narcotic was being smuggled into the US from South America aboard a container vessel owned and operated by DiNozzo Enterprises.

"I don't give a damn whether you believe me or not, Agent Gibbs, but I _am_ a legitimate businessman," DiNozzo had voiced heatedly to counter Gibbs' cynical snort. "And I acted as soon as I found out that Lucas was using one of my freighters for his filthy trade."

DiNozzo then seemed to rein in his emotions and when he spoke again his voice was a lot calmer. "He was seeing how far he could push the boundaries of our…agreement. But I didn't find out until much later that young Stevie had been involved."

"And Bonetti knows for sure that it was you who called in the DEA?" Fornell asked curiously. "They coulda been watching his operation the whole time, or got the same 'anonymous' tip off that you did."

DiNozzo gave a humorless laugh. "Lucas has let it be known that he holds me solely responsible, Agent Fornell, and for that reason I've spent the years since waiting for some form of retaliation. But I never thought he would hurt my…Anthony."

"An eye for an eye," Ziva David muttered ominously

And then came that second visit of the day…

Lucas Bonetti had the right to refuse of course, even though it had been cleared through official channels, and Gibbs had fully expected him to do so and was anticipating it right up until they arrived at the imposing 19th Century sprawling fort-like facility, and passed through the stringent security checks. Another major surprise was that Bonetti had declined any legal representation on the understanding that his interview was one on one with Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, which meant that Ziva David and Tobias Fornell had to kick their heels outside; something they weren't happy about at all.

Gibbs studied him intently from the minute he came shuffling into the visitor's room, manacled at the wrists and ankles and escorted by two prison guards. Where DiNozzo was a powerful, yet undeniably charismatic individual, the same couldn't be said of his cousin Lucas. Something about Bonetti instantly made Gibbs' skin crawl.

The man did surprise Gibbs though, when early on in the interview and almost without a prompt he openly voiced his contempt for his cousin Joe Porello, and also gave vent to his feelings where the DiNozzo's were concerned. And though he wouldn't come right out and confirm he was responsible for ordering the hit on Tony, he didn't exactly deny it either. Just sat there across the scarred wooden table in his orange prison jumpsuit, taking a long leisurely drag of his cigarette and looking for all the world like he was entertaining a business associate.

Arrogant sonofabitch Gibbs cursed mentally, struggling to keep his temper in check when all he wanted to do was wipe the self-satisfied smirk off the bastards face. 

Bonetti exhaled and watched the long plume of smoke swirl lazily upwards and dissipate.

"Vin never really knew the meaning of the word _family,_" he stated a moment or so later. "He's been a major disappointment to everybody - me, our grandfather. I hear his own kid…now what's his name?" Bonetti snapped his fingers as if trying to jog his memory while Gibbs sat and waited and silently fumed, determined not to play the man's warped game. "Anthony…Tony, .that's it! Even young Tony keeps his distance. Now that's not the way it should be with our children is it, Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs kept his expression neutral and his comments to himself, but Bonetti didn't seem to want much of a response anyway.

"He's a weak man ," Bonetti continued, "who should cherish his _family_, not betray them."

"So you think he betrayed everyone?" Gibbs asked.

Bonetti hissed out a laugh. "Of course he did. A stronger man wouldn't have fallen apart the way he did, wouldn't have drank himself to oblivion and neglected his own child and his family responsibilities. And through it all our grandfather defended him Couldn't see his precious Vincent for the waste of space he really was. He didn't deserve Nonno Stefano's loyalty, he doesn't deserve respect, and he doesn't deserve to have a son."

"And that's what all this really comes down to, isn't it!" Gibbs stated almost casually, but to anyone who really knew the man there was nothing casual at all in this question or the hard glint in his blue-gray eyes. "Why should his son live, while yours is dead! Is that why you ordered the hit on Special Agent DiNozzo?"

"Now that would be telling wouldn't it, Gibbs," the older man responded smugly.

Gibbs leaned across the table and fixed the man in his gaze. "Well let me tell _you _something, dirtbag, " he said almost conversationally. He knew his every word and action was being recorded for posterity by the security cameras, but he didn't give a damn. "I take it personally when one of my people is hurt. So, you'd better hope that Tony DiNozzo makes a full recovery, because if anything happens…."

Gibbs had a lot more to say but didn't get the chance, because at that precise moment the door opened and one of the guards stepped in and informed him that he needed to take an urgent call from a Director Shepard..

"Oh dear! I hope it's not bad news," were the taunting words that followed him out the door.

oOo


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"There's nothing here, Gibbs!" Ziva hissed in frustration, her words cutting across the heavy silence and bringing him abruptly back to the here and now. Gibbs blinked a couple of times and then watched as the Israeli finished bagging and tagging the last of Devese's personal items. Then she stripped off her latex gloves and threw them down on the table in disgust.

The items he had checked and logged himself lay in a neat row alongside, though he only vaguely remembered sorting through any of them. He had worked practically on automatic.

"Well, what did you expect to find?"

The young woman shrugged. "I don't know! Something…_anything_!"

Gibbs let out what sounded like a combination of a snort and a laugh. "You've been an investigator long enough now to know that good evidence doesn't always come easy."

"I know, but…"

"_But_ nothing, Officer David. This is all routine," he interrupted, waving his hand dismissively at the numerous plastic baggies containing everything from Devese's credit cards to her key ring and individual items of make-up. "At the moment the only thing we know for sure is that she tried to kill Tony. I doubt we'll find a shred of evidence here that ties her to Bonetti."

"Then perhaps you could explain why we have both wasted the best part of an hour processing this… crap?" she huffed as she dropped down into a chair and folded her arms churlishly.

"Rule 6," came his succinct response, and when all he got in return was a blank stare he snapped out. "Be thorough!"

Tim McGee chose that moment to put in an appearance, clutching a laptop computer and a pile of papers and looking slightly rumpled and out of breath, a sign that he had something important to tell. But first things first.

"Tony…?" Gibbs asked.

"Ducky's back and sitting with him now, and we've doubled the guard," the young agent answered promptly, anticipating his boss's question. "We've also sent Abby home to bed. She was getting a little, uh, cranky."

"Good!" Gibbs lips quirked in a grin. "Okay! What ya got for me McGee?"

"Well, as Devese was using Tony's workstation and computer to supposedly read through the Bonetti files, I thought I'd check his phone log. She made one call from it…to the offices of Chambers, Spalding and Belnick."

"Lucas Bonetti's attorney," Gibbs stated calmly. "Confident, wasn't she?"

"Or stupid," was Ziva's contribution.

Tim then handed over some papers. "Devese's personal cell phone records, boss, courtesy of our good friends at the FBI, or at least Special Agent Fornell."

Gibbs squinted at the tiny unreadable printout, patted his pockets for a second before realizing that he didn't have his glasses and shoved the paperwork back at his junior agent, giving him a 'Get on with it!" look.

"Um, well, it's all more or less the usual stuff.. Calls to her family, friends, orthodontist, bank etcetera. But there's one particular number that's new, but consistent."

McGee had already highlighted the long row of digits as they appeared on the first page of the readout a half dozen times. "These indicate calls to another cell phone… and one recently acquired by Laura Devese."

"So assuming she's not in the habit of making calls to herself…" Ziva chimed in, back on her feet now and showing interest.

"…Then the cell was intended for someone else," McGee finished for her with a nod of confirmation.

"And?" Gibbs prompted impatiently.

"It's been used in the last few hours, boss, but not long enough for us to get a definite fix," McGee advised semi-apologetically. "We do know the signal originated from somewhere within the Ivy City district, which is --"

"Where I found Tony," Gibbs stated darkly.

"So far, we've been unable to pinpoint an exact location. But we're working on it…"

"Well, what if I'm not willing to wait while you _'work on it' _some more?" Gibbs growled as he stalked towards the young agent, and had him backed almost to the wall before he stopped dead in his tracks as a startling thought came to him, light a bolt out of the blue. In the next breath he was snapping out instructions. "McGee! Those warehouses and industrial units over in Ivy City--"

"Yeah, boss…" he gulped.

"Find out if any of them are owned or leased by DiNozzo Enterprises."

As McGee moved quickly to set up his laptop on the conference table to get to work, Ziva David studied Gibbs curiously. "What are you thinking?" she asked.

Gibbs shrugged. "I'm thinking it would probably suit Lucas Bonetti's warped sense of justice and irony to have his enemy's son murdered, and then dump the body virtually on his doorstep."

"But surely Bonetti's hit man would be long gone by now?" Ziva reasoned. "If he had the good sense, anyway."

"Maybe he can't," he countered. "At least not until the job's completed."

oOo


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

As they climbed out of their car both Gibbs and Ziva David took a moment to gaze around at the bleaksurroundings, which consisted mainly of abandoned weed-lined streets and dilapidated brick buildings. 

While parts of Ivy City had recently been transformed by property developers spreading out from the more fashionable and expensive districts in search of cheap city land, this section of the neighborhood had so far been largely ignored, most likely because of its close proximity to the Amtrak yard.

Initiating a search on his computer, McGee had quickly located four DiNozzo Enterprise owned properties. Gibbs hadn't been surprised at all by the discovery; with one of the company's subsidiaries being a national and international freight haulage business, it stood to reason that they might have warehouses or storage facilities in areas just like this one - dominated as it was by the railway - in major cities right across the country.

The first two sites had panned out. One had been nothing but an empty lot; cleared for impending construction. The second had been a large warehouse skirting the rail track, surrounded by a high chain-link fence, locked up tight and guarded better than Fort Knox. Even their federal badges did little to impress the huge, hard-faced security guard on the front gate, who growled something about them not getting in without a warrant. Not wanting to aggravate the goliath any more than they had to, and agreeing that their hit man would require Houdini-like skills to hide out at that particular location, Gibbs and Ziva moved swiftly on.

The third site was a sprawling storage depot, which consisted of one large but empty-looking two story building and a cluster of smaller ones, situated across an expanse of open ground in what had apparently become the local dump site for car wrecks and other assorted commercial debris, including some large steel barrels with bio-hazard signs still evident on their rusting surfaces.

Apart from the graffiti that adorned the outer walls and a shattered windowpane here and there, up close the main building was fairly solid looking and in relatively good repair, despite the decay of its surroundings.

Drawing his weapon Gibbs headed off to the left, and with no need of a prompt Ziva went in the opposite direction to check out the east side of the building and to look for a way in on that level. Minutes later, when Gibbs had just finished picking the lock on a door that he assumed led to what had once been the administration offices of the depot, Ziva's voice came urgently over his earpiece.

"Gibbs, I'm inside the main cargo bay and there is definite sign that someone has been in here, and recently," she reported a little breathlessly.

"Understood, Agent David," he responded, as he stepped into the building himself and into a space that was largely thrown into shadow. "Proceed with extreme caution and keep me updated on your status."

"Affirmative."

With his gun at the ready, Gibbs made his way through the partitioned interconnecting rooms. All that now remained within was the odd battered wooden desk or filing cabinet, drawers long since emptied of their contents. This section of the facility had that distinct feel of neglect and emptiness; if anyone had bothered to come in here recently then they hadn't stayed around for long.

Gibbs had just about finished his sweep, when Ziva's voice crackled once again in his earpiece but her words were mostly lost in a hail of static.

"Gibbs…someone's …here…need to…" The transmission ended abruptly.

"Officer David!" Gibbs tapped his earpiece irritably. Nothing. "Ziva," he tried again as he sprinted out through a door and into a hallway that led through to the main storage and loading bay; a vast space with entire sections now cast into dense shadow. He stood for a moment trying to adjust his vision to penetrate the gloom and to listen. After a couple more unsuccessful attempts to reach Ziva it was time to move, and so with his back to the wall Gibbs started to make his way around the outer edge of the bay. In addition to the sparse lighting, his route was hindered by stacked packing crates of varying sizes along with bits of debris - mostly paper and sacking - strewn across the floor. DiNozzo Enterprises may have abandoned this depot, but it was obviously still being used by others for storage.

As he passed by a small recess he noted the sleeping bags and various bits of camping equipment strewn around, definite proof that someone had been using the place as a sort of home away from home.

About a third of the way in Gibbs stopped dead in his tracks as he came to the end of one long row of crates, which led to an expanse of open ground that stretched all the way over to the big rolling doors. There, somewhere towards the middle of the floor and just barely visible, was a dark unmoving bundle.

"Dammit!" he cursed under his breath as he raised his gun to scan the area.

There was no discernible movement or sound, but Gibbs knew for sure that someone was lurking in the shadows waiting for him to show himself, and that when he did he would be a moving target, but under the circumstances he had no choice; one of his agents was down and needed his help.

With a quick intake of breath, Gibbs launched himself from his cover and bolted towards the inert figure, crouching low and moving fast. As he neared, his worst fears were confirmed; it was definitely an unconscious Ziva - or at least he hoped she was just unconscious. He nearly made it all the way across to her when stocky figure came almost from nowhere, barreling into his body with a breathtaking force and taking him down in a hard tackle.

"Fuck!" Gibbs just about had time to hiss as his body and then his head hit the concrete floor.

Sprawled on the ground and reeling from the sudden blow to his skull, Gibbs was still lucid enough to see the heavy boot heading towards his ribs, and in the last second managed to roll over onto his side so that he took the brunt of the bruising blow to his back; it still hurt like a bitch but at least it wasn't incapacitating, and he was able to use the momentum of the roll to take him out of his attackers reach for those few vital seconds to raise his sig. But the big brute had obviously anticipated this tactic and moved fast, and before Gibbs' arm was even raised part way the heavy boot stomped down again with an agonizing force onto his wrist and the weapon dropped from his fingers.

Then the big man was on top of him and he had all the advantage, using his heavy body mass to keep the leaner form in place as his meaty fists pummeled him again and again. At first, all Gibbs could do was try to defend himself against the onslaught, delivering a few ineffectual strikes of his own here and there. But his chance finally came when he managed to get both hands up to grab the broad shoulders. With as much force as possible he pulled the brute slightly off balance and then head butted him - hard, and was rewarded with the satisfying crunch of bone and cartilage. Gibbs then followed through with a savage knee to the groin that had the man letting out a shrill scream of pain as he fell sidewards, gasping for breath and spitting up blood and bile at the same time.

As much as he wanted desperately to check on Ziva, Gibbs knew he needed to be armed, so as soon as he made it to his feet he staggered across to his sig, which was lying just a few feet away. He was reaching down to retrieve the weapon when he heard a loud click and turned to find himself staring down the barrel of an automatic pistol.

"First time I've seen anyone get the better of Nico," Joe Porello announced with something bordering on genuine respect.

"Well that's what he gets for fighting like a girl," Gibbs gritted out through bloodied lips, not even bothering to glance back at the stricken behemoth who was still moaning woefully and clutching his injured body parts.

"He's gonna be pissed that we can't hang around long enough for some good old-fashioned payback, Special Agent Gibbs. It is Gibbs, isn't it?"

Gibbs inclined his head slightly, which Porello took as a sign of acknowledgement. "Thought I recognized you and your lady friend here from Laura's surveillance photos. You're Anthony's boss, right?"

This time he didn't seem to want confirmation. "As you're here, I'm assuming Laura didn't finish the job? Nah, bet the stupid little bitch screwed it up like everything else." Porello glanced again at Nico who was now on all fours trying to get to his feet.

"We were just packing up to leave when you two turned up," Porello said almost conversationally. "Bad timing, huh?"

"Well, don't let me stop you," Gibbs responded glibly.

"Oh, believe me, I won't."

Though Joe suspected that these two Feds were on their own with no back up, he had no way to test his theory until they were outside - which is why he had every intention of taking the woman along as security. With everything to lose if he was re-arrested, he'd do whatever it took to maintain his freedom.

He was close enough so that Gibbs could see the tiny beads of perspiration all over the bald head and face, and he knew the instant Porello made the decision to take him out even before the automatic was leveled at his head for a point blank kill shot. But the blast that reverberated around the huge space a fraction of a second later didn't come from Porello's gun. They both spun almost in perfect synchronicity as Nico let out a tortured gargling sound and staggered backwards, clutching frantically at his throat. Blood and lots of it pumped from between his fingers as his life literally drained away before their eyes until he collapsed in an ungainly boneless heap.

To his credit the shock of seeing his henchman die so violently just feet away seemed to motivate Porello into action, and he raised his gun once again and pointed it in Gibbs' direction, but his finger froze on the trigger as a composed, commanding, but very familiar voice came from somewhere behind him.

"I wouldn't do that, Joe."

He turned to stare this time in wide-eyed disbelief as the tall figure sauntered slowly from the shadows. In a matter of seconds, Porello's expression changed from a sneer to something akin to shock and more than a little fear as the man approached.

From his position, Gibbs couldn't see if Vincent DiNozzo actually had a weapon in his hand but he didn't think so. And what surprised him even more was the fact that Porello lowered his gun almost without thinking about it; though didn't drop it.

"Vin!" Porello stuttered out. His gaze shifted unsubtly towards the exit, as if he were calculating the odds of making a break for it.

Gibbs edged carefully towards the still unconscious Ziva, crouching down at her side to watch the bizarre confrontation as it played out right in front of them. An armed, desperate man, seemingly cowed into submission by the mere presence of another.

"How did you get yourself into this mess, Joey?" DiNozzo asked with a sad shake of his head. Not once had his gaze left his cousin, even to acknowledge Gibbs's presence.

Being so close, Gibbs picked up on the nervous tension emanating from Porello, and the man was definitely sweating more heavily now too!

"Jesus, Vin! I'm so sorry…for everything."

DiNozzo took another step closer. "Why the hell didn't you come to me?"

Porello ran a trembling hand over his face and seemed to squirm in place, almost like a 5-year-old being chastised by an adult. "I was just so damned confused, Vin. The Feds had me by the balls, and the only way out was to get on that witness stand or make a deal with Lucas."

He paused to take in a long breath before continuing.

"I, uh, I wouldn't have gone through with killing your boy, even though Lucas wanted it that way," Porello offered feebly. "Sure we roughed him up a little, took some photos for proof, but that's as far as I was ever gonna go. He's a tough kid, so I knew he could take it. I just needed Lucas to think I'd done it, gain me enough breathing space to get outta the country."

Porello spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster under the circumstances, and maybe on some level he even believed it. He certainly seemed oblivious to the irony of his words or of the subtle change in Vincent DiNozzo's entire demeanor at the mention of his son, or of the dark intent in his eyes, but Gibbs caught it.

He also witnessed the mask that fell in place deceptively fast as DiNozzo nodded, and gave his cousin the ghost of a smile that chilled Gibbs to the core. "As if I would doubt that, Joey," he stated evenly. "And cousin Lucas will pay for it… eventually. But first things first - let's get you out of here."

"_What_?" Porello gaped in shock, at the same time as Gibbs' vehement snarled, "_Like hell_!"

"Agent Gibbs! Stay out of this." Without even looking directly at Gibbs, DiNozzo spoke to him for the first time and there was no misinterpreting the warning tone. "It's family business."

Turning back to his cousin, DiNozzo tossed him a set of keys. "There's a dark blue sedan parked outside. Take it and go."

"But Vin…"

"_Now!" _DiNozzo urged. "Before Agent Gibbs' federal friends come looking for him."

"But what about…?"

"Trust me, Joey," he responded firmly. "I'll sort everything."

Joe Porello gave his cousin one lingering uncertain look, before he turned and ran for the same door at the back of the bay where Ziva had entered earlier. Gibbs in the meantime had managed to clamber unsteadily to his feet and looked like he was preparing to give chase.

"And you'd be advised to do as I tell you, Agent Gibbs," came the terse command. Gibbs couldn't fail to notice the gun which Vincent DiNozzo now had aimed squarely at his chest. "So grab the lovely Officer David and make your way as quickly as possible over there," he gestured to the other side of the warehouse and to a stack of large crates. "I have a feeling that Anthony would be more than a little pissed if I let anything happen to either of you."

Gibbs had no option but to do as he was told, but he gave the man a death glare as he picked Ziva up and carried her across to where DiNozzo Snr indicated.

"So you're just gonna let that sonofabitch walk away from this?" he snarled, as he lay Ziva down as gently as possible.

"What gave you that idea?" Vincent asked through that eerily familiar grin, even as he took his gaze from Gibbs to check his wristwatch. He then just had time to shove Gibbs to the floor next to Ziva and dive down beside them, before the building was buffeted by a violent explosion from somewhere outside.

Even as small bits of masonry cascaded down from the rafters, Vincent DiNozzo was back on his feet and dusting himself off.

"Ain't payback a bitch, Joe," he offered sardonically, as he turned and headed for a different exit from the one his late cousin had taken just moments earlier.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't hand your ass over to the FBI for that?" Gibbs shouted at the departing man's back.

"It wouldn't do you any good, Agent Gibbs," Vincent DiNozzo stated over his shoulder, with a smile that was pure dark innocence. "I've got a dozen or more reputable witnesses who would stand up in a court of law and swear that I was attending a fundraiser in New York," he glanced at his wristwatch again, "right about now."

"It'd still be my word against yours," Gibbs threatened half-heartedly, as pain from his recent pummeling kicked in with a vengeance and kept him on the ground.

"Now that _would_ be interesting, wouldn't it?" DiNozzo snorted with real amusement.

Despite the circumstances and his predicament Gibbs found himself responding with a strained but amused shake of his head as the elder DiNozzo called out, "You take good care of that boy of ours," before giving a vague wave as he stepped outside and disappeared from sight.

oOo

Kate was speaking again, so softly that Tony only just caught the words.

"You need to go back ."

"Aw Katie, do I have to?" came the petulant response as he snuggled in a bit closer to her. "It's kinda nice right here."

With the shocking realization that part of him was already embracing this plane of existence, Kate pushed him away from her.

"The longer you stay with me the weaker your life force becomes. Go back while you still can," she urged. "They're here now, and Gibbs will be really, really pissed if you die."

Tony followed her gaze over to where Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Abby Sciuto, Ziva David, Tim McGee and Donald "Ducky" Mallard sat in a silent companionable vigil around his bedside. Gibbs and Ziva were both battered and bruised, with the whole group looking as if they hadn't slept in days.

He turned back to Kate, still not sure if he was ready to let go just yet, but knowing that he had to at least try for her.

"I'm not gonna remember any of this, am I," he stated sadly, knowing instinctively that he was right. Then Kate's hand brushed over his cheek.

"Maybe fragments," she offered with a warm smile. "It'll be just like a dream." She turned away from him for an instant as her attention went elsewhere, as if she was listening to something…or someone.

"There's no time left," Kate said urgently. "You have to go…now!"

"Okay," Tony agreed grudgingly. "But will you hang around for a while…just in case?"

"Sure," she responded, feeling the need to push a strand of hair from his face and brush her lips over his. And then just in case he thought she cared or something, "It's not like I've got anything better to do!"

With another gentle shove from his former partner Tony began the short walk across the room, stopping suddenly to turn back to her with a rakish smile.

"This reminds me of the end of 'Ghost'…."

oOo

Epilogue

A monumentally pissed off Lucas Bonetti was led back to his cell after meeting with his new team of lawyers. As far as he was concerned they were all _useless assholes_, every last one of them. The FBI's original witness for the prosecution, Joe Porello, was dead - blown to bits in a car explosion - and that should have been the end of it. But the Feds had found someone - or in this case two 'someone's - to take his place on the witness stand in return for a plea bargain; one being his previous lawyer, Leo Chambers, and the other Laura Devese, who was allegedly willing to testify to his part in the attempted murder of Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

Even though his lawyers were confident they could delay long enough to find some minor loophole or technicality that might at the very least give him a reduced sentence, Bonetti was no fool, which is exactly why he'd set other plans in motion.

In exactly two days he was going with a full escort to hospital to receive treatment for a long standing heart condition. He would never arrive. If everything went exactly to plan, the convoy would be intercepted long before it reached its destination, and he would be free and on his way out of the country before the Feds knew what had hit them.

With this in mind he couldn't conceal the smirk as the prison guard removed his shackles, and ushered him through the heavy security door and into the section that housed his cell. The grin was still in place even as the brawl broke out between a group of men in the communal area. At first it was just a lot of pushing, shoving and name calling, but as he neared all hell broke loose. What moments before had just seemed like a minor squabble suddenly escalated into an all out pack fight. One man was thrown bodily against a wall: two more went reeling past to land a heap on the floor just ahead of him, the taller of the two had his fingers wrapped around the others throat. An alarm blared, and Bonetti stepped to one side in an attempt to avoid the worst of the fracas, but the mob just seemed to close in on him with fists flailing and furniture shattering. The next moment he was caught up in another surge from the crowd and shoved up against the outer wall to one of the cells, where something was shoved into his abdomen and twisted. At first there was no pain, just the cold, shocking realization that he had been stabbed.

"I've got a message for you from Vincent, _Signor Bonetti_," a rasping voice whispered close to his ear. "Occhio per occhio."

The mob dispersed quickly as the security doors at both ends of the wing burst open and armed guards swarmed in to diffuse the fracas before it could develop into something altogether more dangerous.

But for Lucas Bonetti it was already too late.

oOo

Twixt a smile and a tear

Twixt a song and a sigh

Twixt the day and the dark

When the night draweth nigh

Ah, sunshine may fade

From the heavens above

No twilight have we

To the day of our love

- 'Twilight' by Paul Laurence Dunbar

THE END


End file.
